The Cannes Classics program at the festival isn’t merely the home for restorations like those for “Ken Russell’s The Devils” and “Pan’s Labyrinth.” It’s also where the fest programs documentaries about filmmaking and filmmakers, and two of the more interesting productions this year spotlighted creators for whom this kind of cinematic admiration is undeniably deserved. One might not think that David Lean and Bruce Dern have much in common, but this unusual double feature reminds one how both men took notable risks during their careers but stayed true to a creative passion that made them both essential across generations. Both films are relatively traditional bio-docs in that they assemble career highlights chronologically, intercutting them with admiring creators to comment on why they’re so important to the history of film. Strangely enough, both films also have unexpected throughlines, indicating how bio-doc directors often need to find a way to connect the peaks of an artistic career with personal details.
In the case of “Maverick: The Epic Adventures of David Lean,” the unexpected connective tissue is that Sir Lean couldn’t stay married. Is it because his father walked out on the family at a young age that David wed six different women over his 83 years on this planet? Director Barnaby Thompson returns regularly to Francis William le Blount Lean, a cruel man who would send David derisive letters about his career, even after winning basically every award for filmmaking there is to win. Francis died never having seen one of his son’s little movies, and it instilled an insane lack of confidence in David. The fact that David freaking Lean had Imposter Syndrome for almost his entire career tells you all you need to know about how cruelly untrue that mental condition can be.
Of course, everyone knows the tentpoles in the career of Sir David Lean, and Thompson hits them accordingly, starting with his early work as an editor and moving through the increasingly notable hits. I’m a huge fan of his early work with Noel Coward, including his debut “In Which We Serve” and 1945’s “Brief Encounter,” a movie that often springs to mind when I think of my favorites of all time.
Lean would use the success of that masterpiece to make two of the most acclaimed Dickens adaptations ever in “Great Expectations” and “Oliver Twist,” and he would continue to make at least one masterpiece every decade: “Summertime” and “The Bridge on the River Kwai” in the ‘50s, “Lawrence of Arabia” and “Doctor Zhivago” in the ‘60s, “Ryan’s Daughter” in the ‘70s, and “Passage to India” in the ‘80s. The hated-at-the-time “Ryan’s Daughter” gets an interesting chapter that reveals how much the critical slams for that film hurt Lean, and how dangerous the shoot ended up being.
Thompson gets a cadre of luminaries to talk about Lean as he goes through his career, but it’s more playful than the traditional assemblage of talking heads. Of course, “Dune” director Denis Villeneuve loves “Lawrence of Arabia”; obviously, Wes Anderson is going to talk up the meticulous set design on “Oliver Twist”; Brady Corbet feels a kindred spirit after using VistaVision on “The Brutalist” to wonder how “Lawrence of Arabia” even got made. Nia DaCosta, Alfonso Cuaron, Celine Song, and more are here to give Sir David Lean his flowers. And while a film called “Maverick” should arguably have been a bit more groundbreaking in its presentation, this one gets away with being traditional by highlighting a creative ambition that was anything but.
There’s a similar (and stronger actually) sense that an iconoclastic subject deserved a bit more ambitious telling of his life story in “Dernsie: The Amazing Life of Bruce Dern,” a change of pace for horror director Mike Mendez. The title refers to something spoken about on sets by directors like Quentin Tarantino, who will tell the timeless actor that they need a “Dernsie,” a bit of physical activity that’s not on the page, and arguably unexpected, but fits just right. An example is Dern’s character struggling to take off his wedding ring at the end of “Coming Home” or slowly pulling up his blanket in “The Hateful Eight.” Mendez could have honestly leaned into these quirky choices even more given how much they define this remarkable career.
The better throughline of “Dernsie” becomes how much life is a marathon and not a sprint. Did you know Bruce Dern was a runner? And not in a “I’m going to go for a jog” kind of way. He would run from his home in Malibu to sets for the films he made, often totaling dozens of miles. He would sometimes get bored and run from Los Angeles to San Diego. The commitment that Dern brought to his physical obsession is used as a mirror for a career that has had its speedbumps and rest stops but keeps going. Bruce Dern outlasted so many of his peers that when I had the thought that I wished more of his contemporaries were in this project, it dawned on me that most of them are gone.
“Dernsie” offers a lot of fun biographical detail, including how Dern came from an insane amount of money, a Chicago family connected to names like Wrigley and Wright. Dern even says they were the “company” in Carson Pirie Scott & Co, a famous American department store. The wealth gave Dern access to a variety of people, who he would channel into his characters. One of the most enjoyable chapters comes when Dern talks about the response to him shooting John Wayne in 1972’s “The Cowboys,” something that just wasn’t done. It was such a big deal that daughter Laura had a playdate canceled because she was the kin of the man who killed America’s cowboy.
If “Dernsie” suffers, it’s in some misguided animated sequences that recreate key moments and conversations, and the talent acquired to praise this legend. No offense to the entertaining Quentin Tarantino, Walton Goggins, Alexander Payne, and Will Forte, but they’re all late-era Dern collaborators, and I would have loved to hear from some of his older co-stars. Yes, many of them are gone, but not all. Both of his Oscar-winning co-stars from “Coming Home” are around, for example.
Unsurprisingly, the standout interview subjects turn out to be the Derns: Bruce and Laura. There’s actually a bit of a Trojan Horse Laura Dern bio-doc in this one in that we learn so much about her childhood, early career, and expansive talent.
Bruce Dern turns 90 next month, and it was a gift to see the admiration he earned on the red carpet at Cannes this year, an echo of what he considers a career peak: winning Best Actor at Cannes for “Nebraska” in 2013.
He’s always been one of those admired actors who is not often mentioned enough on the lists of the best of his generation. This doc makes a convincing case he should be.
